


Pinch Serve

by TheGreatCatsby



Series: Turning Tables [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cancer, Gen, Illness, University, pre-Match Point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6213523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a simple statement: “Daichi, I don't feel well.” Both times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pinch Serve

**Author's Note:**

> Ooops.

It started with a simple statement: “Daichi, I don't feel well.” Both times. 

The first time, Daichi hadn't seen Suga much in the past few weeks, owing to the onset of final exams and long hours spent in the library and at practice. Daichi was on his university's volleyball team. Suga wasn't. They only really got to spend time together when they went out to dinner. 

This late in the semester they rarely went out to dinner. 

Daichi knew it wasn't personal. Suga had taken on a pre-med course of study, and Daichi needed to balance school and his team. He saw his teammates more than he saw anyone else. Still, he was worried. Every time they saw each other, Suga looked progressively more exhausted. Daichi tried to convince himself that it was just stress from school, but something about it bothered him, nagged at him. He'd always noticed when something was wrong with Suga, even though Suga tried to hide it. He felt like this was one of those times. 

So he invited Suga to dinner. 

It was the middle of the two week final exam period, and Suga texted back immediately that he had to study. 

“You also have to eat,” Daichi replied. 

Suga agreed to dinner. 

Daichi went to Suga's dorm, knocked on the door. Suga opened it a second later, and Daichi felt his stomach drop. 

Suga looked awful. 

HIs face was too pale, and now that Daichi was seeing him up close, too thin. His beauty mark stood out in stark contrast to his skin, as did the dark smudges under his eyes. Suga gave Daichi a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, which looked glazed. 

Daichi didn't know what to say. “Are you feeling okay?” didn't seem to cut it. 

Suga frowned at him. “Are you alright, Daichi?” 

“Me?” Daichi choked out. 

“Yes, you,” Suga said, stepping forward and closing the door behind him. “I thought you wanted to go out to dinner?” 

“I did,” Daichi said, taking a step back as Suga locked the door. “I do. I just...” He didn't know why he was struggling. 

“Let's go,” Suga said, taking Daichi's arm and lightly tugging him forward. 

They were outside in the cold winter air before Daichi could say anything. Suga had slowed down, his grip on Daichi's arm slack, and Daichi took this as a sign that it was okay to talk now. 

“Suga,” he said, “are you okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” Suga asked lightly. 

“You don't look well.” 

“It's finals,” Suga said with a small laugh. “No one looks well.” 

“Yeah but you...” Daichi struggled to put it into words. 

Suga stopped in his tracks and Daichi turned to him. Suga had wrapped his arms around himself, was biting his lip. 

“Suga?” 

“Actually, I don't think I'm hungry,” Suga said. His voice had gone soft. 

Daichi took a step forward. “What's wrong?” 

Suga's lips quivered, like he was trying not to cry. “Daichi,” he said, “I don't feel well.” 

“Then let's go back,” Daichi said, taking a step forward. Before he finished his sentence, Suga swayed dangerously on the spot, and then fell to the ground. 

Daichi rushed forward, already pulling out his phone with one hand as his knees hit the ground. He made sure to turn Suga on his side, brushed his silver-blond hair away from his damp forehead. Suga's skin was too hot to the touch, even in the winter cold. The heat bit through Daichi's glove, and he felt scalded. 

The ambulance arrived several minutes later. Suga had woken up, dazed, hardly able to do more than slur out a few words asking what had happened. Daichi didn't have an answer for him. 

Daichi, in that moment, thought that not knowing was the worst part. 

He was wrong. 

*

Suga hated admitting he was sick, but as he lay in the back of an ambulance, Daichi's hand clutching his, he felt thick tendrils of guilt start to wrap around him. 

He'd messed up. He knew he messed up. This was bad, and he felt like he was losing control. 

*

Before Daichi could give Sugawara's condition a name, he knew how much it scared him. It scared him more than anything had ever scared him before. More than the worst nightmare he'd ever had, more than the worst reality he'd ever experienced. 

This was his best friend, and as Sugawara undressed in the hospital room, Daichi saw what had been happening to him for the past few weeks. He hadn't even noticed. 

Fear was watching someone you love get hurt and not being able to do a thing about it. 

Daichi felt helpless as he saw Suga's ribs, could count each one. Worse than that were the bruises, dark and violent, staining his skin everywhere. Everywhere, even around Suga's neck, which was usually covered in scarves this time of year. His arms, his back, his stomach, his legs when Daichi caught a brief glimpse. He wanted to throw up. 

Then Suga slipped the hospital gown on. There was an IV in his arm—he manuevered the tubing so that he could get his arm into the sleeve, and already a purple bruise was spreading around the needle. 

“How did this happen?” Daichi asked. 

Suga looked at him, startlingly calm. He'd been given medicine for his fever, and some of the glaze in his eyes had disappeared, leaving them clear. 

“I don't know,” he admitted. “Maybe bumping into things?” 

“You're not clumsy, Suga,” Daichi said. 

“I know.” Suga looked down at his hands and lowered himself onto the bed. 

Daichi's phone buzzed. And then Suga's phone buzzed, and they both checked to see who was messaging them. Suga laughed, high and loud, breaking the silence. 

“Nishinoya is threatening to drive overnight to see me,” he said, grinning. “With Tanaka. And Asahi has sent at least four texts asking if he should bring food or blankets or medicine. Medicine, to a hospital!” 

Daichi grinned back, because he'd gotten the same messages. “I have a feeling they'll all show up here tomorrow,” he said. 

Suga bit his lip. “The doctors said I'll have tests tomorrow.” 

Daichi caught the way Suga's smile disappeared. He crossed the room, lowered himself onto the bed next to Suga, touched him arm gently. “I'm sure it's just a precaution. They want to make sure you're okay.” 

“They don't do that kind of thing for run of the mill sickness,” Suga said. 

“You passed out,” Daichi reminded him. “They probably want to make sure it's nothing serious.” 

“They didn't like my blood test results,” Suga muttered. 

Daichi frowned. “What?” 

“The way the doctor talked about it,” Suga said. “It was after that when he said they needed to run more tests. Something's wrong.” 

“Suga-” 

“I screwed up,” Suga blurted out, his hands clenching the thin fabric of his hospital gown. 

“What do you mean?” Daichi asked. 

“I felt so bad, and I thought it would go away and it didn't and what if it's something bad because I let it get bad?” The words came out in a rush. 

Daichi squeezed Suga's arm, gently. “It isn't your fault. Don't blame yourself.” 

“If it were you,” Suga said, turning to him, “I would've yelled at you about putting school over your health.” 

Daichi laughed. “Yeah, that's true, but we all make mistakes. It'll be okay.” 

“I didn't want you to worry.” 

“Since when has that stopped me from worrying?” Daichi asked. Suga shrugged. “You know what it's like. But I'll be here. We'll get through this. And then...” 

“Back to final exams,” Suga said flatly. 

Daichi leaned against him. “Back to exams. What an exciting life we lead.” 

* 

Suga was nineteen, and he'd never spent an extended amount of time in a hospital before. Daichi had left for an exam that morning, promising to be back in the afternoon. Suga's parents had called saying that they would arrive in the evening. But for the morning, for the tests, Suga was alone. 

He'd never been tested in a hospital. 

The first was a CAT scan, where he was asked to lie flat on his back and stay still while being fed into a noisy machine. He was fascinated by the thing, wondered just how much of his insides it could see. All of this made him want to ask questions even as he was afraid, because despite everything he was still a pre-med student, and he was genuinely curious. 

He asked one of the nurses if she knew how the machine worked and she laughed. “Not even the doctors know how. That's all up to the technicians. They're brilliant!” 

The technician stayed behind a glass partition, didn't come out, which disappointed Suga a little. But he didn't have time to think about it too much, because then he was whisked away to another test. 

For the second test, the doctor explained to him that they were going to insert a needle into his hip bone. 

The thought made Suga want to throw up. He wished Daichi were there to hold his hand. 

“We'll sedate you,” the doctor said, her eyes sympathetic as Suga stared up at her, hands clenched in his lap. 

“Does it hurt?” he asked. 

“Yes,” the doctor said, “but we'll do everything we can to make you feel comfortable.” 

As he lay down on the bed, the doctor injected a sedative into his IV, and Suga knew that this wasn't just standard testing. Standard testing did not involve having a needle put into his bone, and that scared him more than the idea of pain ever could. 

And there was pain. It felt like his insides were being sucked out through the needle. Tears sprang to his eyes as he clutched the bed underneath him, tried not to make a sound. Afterwards, they put a bandage over the area, already bruising dark enough to look almost black, and returned Suga to his room. No one was there. 

Suga pulled the blanket up to his chin, shaking. His breath hitched. 

No one was there, so he allowed himself to cry. 

* 

“Suga-san! I know the food here is crap so I made you enough bentos to last a week! Okay, my mom made them but still, it's the thought that counts, right? I dunno where you'll keep them but--” 

“Noya, inside voice.” 

Noya gave Daichi a sheepish smile and started looking around for a place to store the food. Suga was trying to stifle his laughter behind his hand. Tanaka seemed to be standing guard by his bed, waiting for someone to tell them to get out so that he could tell them to fuck off. 

Asahi had perched on the edge of Suga's bed and kept sending him worried looks. 

“You look like you're gonna fall apart,” Noya told him. 

“Hospitals freak me out,” Asahi said. 

“It's okay,” Suga said. “They're actually really nice here. And the food isn't bad,” he shot a look at Noya, “and the bed is more comfortable than the one in my dorm.” 

“Really?” Asahi looked unconvinced. 

“Really,” Suga said. 

“And how are you feeling?” 

“Better,” Suga told him, “since they've been giving me a lot of medicine.” Daichi noticed that the answer sounded incomplete. He'd had the same feeling when Suga had told him earlier that the tests had been “fine” and hadn't elaborated. 

“Good.” Asahi took a deep breath, trying to visibly relax. 

“I bet it was a long car ride with those two,” Suga said, nodding towards Noya and Tanaka, who were now trying to figure out if they could turn the small closet next to Suga's bed into a refridgerator using a lot of ice packs. 

Asahi laughed. “It was noisy. I missed the noise.” 

“We're going on a mission,” Noya said, turning to the rest of them. “Ice packs.” 

“Noya-” Suga started, but Tanaka cut across him. 

“Don't worry, Suga-san,” he said. “We have a foolproof plan to make your food last.” 

“Hopefully I'm not here that long,” Suga muttered as the two of bounced out of the room. 

Daichi sat down opposite Asahi, who said, “I miss it sometimes. The team. Is it bad to miss high school?” 

“Only if you don't move forward,” Suga said. “But I think you are. Did you ask how the others were doing?” 

“Hinata and Kageyama have a reputation now,” Asahi said. “An even bigger one. I think Tanaka is jealous.” 

Daichi laughed. “He would be.” 

“Ennoshita is a good captain, apparently,” Asahi said. “Noya seemed like he was sorry for putting him through so much trouble.” 

“And yet he won't stop,” Suga laughed. 

“And,” Asahi added, “there's a new first year that's Noya's height, so Noya's taken him under his wing.” 

“Can he really take him under his wing if they're the same height?” Suga asked. 

Daichi snorted. “Don't let him hear that.” 

Suga grinned at the both of them. “We should do this more often.” 

Asahi tensed. “Don't get sick more often, Suga!” 

“I don't mean that! I meant getting together. Catching up. We shouldn't let school get in the way.” 

“I agree,” Daichi said. “We should make plans more often.” 

“Under better circumstances,” Suga added. 

Asahi gave them both a shy smile. “I'd like that.” 

“CATCH!” Asahi ducked just as an ice pack flew through the air. Daichi caught it and gave Noya a dirty look. 

“You're going to end up in the hospital if you don't stop.” 

Suga howled with laughter as Noya stood there, looking incredibly guilty and a little afraid. Tanaka crept up behind him. 

“I forgot how scary he is,” he muttered. 

Daichi placed the ice pack on the bed and stood up, resisting the urge to grin. He'd missed this. 

“I can be scarier.” 

* 

Sugawara's parents arrived later that evening. There were hushed discussions with the doctors, and Suga sat in the hospital bed in the dark feeling small, like a child. He'd spent the past few months living on his own and now he was listening to his parents try to handle things in the hallway. It didn't feel like a relief. It felt like something they couldn't handle, too. 

He didn't sleep well that night. 

The next day, at mid-morning the doctor asked to see Sugawara and his parents in the room to give him a diagnoses. A lot of words were said, a few options given, but Suga only had three words burned into his mind that froze him completely. 

“Acute myeloid leukemia.” 

After the doctor left, his parents hugged him tight. Suga felt strange. He didn't feel like crying. 

He felt relieved. 

He'd been so worried that it was serious and now he knew. It was serious. But it had a name. He could deal with it now that it had a name. The doctor had outlined his options and he knew what needed to happen. 

There was brief talk of going back to Miyagi, to be treated at home. But Tokyo had better medical facilities, and in the end Suga's parents agreed that it would be better if he got treatment in Tokyo. They would figure out what do to about living arrangements, see how the treatment affected Suga before they decided whether or not to try to temporarily rent something in the city to look after him, or allow Suga to stay in the dorms and have his friends look after him. 

Suga was weary of the second option. 

“I couldn't ask that of Daichi,” he said. 

Because he knew that no matter how hard it was, no matter how terrified he felt, Daichi would say yes. 

* 

When Daichi returned to the hospital, Suga seemed pale, but there was something like steel in his eyes. 

“We need to talk,” he said. 

Daichi sat down on the bed. “You got your diagnosis,” he guessed. Suga nodded, and Daichi waited for him to continue. 

“Acute myeloid leukemia,” Suga said after a moment, voice surprisingly steady. “It's a type of cancer of the blood. I'm going to start treatment here right away.” 

“Here,” Daichi repeated. “In Tokyo?” Then his mind went back a few words. “Cancer?” His throat started to close. Not Suga. Not this. 

Suga nodded. “There's better treatment here.” 

“I...” Daichi took one of Suga's hands in his. “Are you okay?” He swallowed, suddenly feeling very helpless. “Stupid question. But...” 

“I know what you mean,” Suga said. “I'm fine. The options are good. I'm going to be fine. I start treatment tomorrow.” 

“Suga.” Daichi didn't know what else to say. 

“I'm actually kind of hungry,” Suga said after a moment. “I think Noya's bentos are still in the closet.” 

“Are they really?” Daichi felt the panic start to recede, just a little, thinking about the pile of ice packs that were probably melted by now covering a pile of bentos. 

Suga nodded. “Share one with me?” 

Daichi gave him a shaky smile. “Of course.” 

* 

Suga hadn't been scared of treatment, but it occurred to him after his first dose had been administered that maybe he should have been. 

At first he didn't feel anything. But later that day, his body felt like it was rotting from the inside out. His bones hurt. His stomach rebelled, turned itself inside out. Suga had never felt so sick in his life. 

The side effects had been explained to him, but Suga had been optimistic. Some people had less severe side effects than others. Apparently, Suga wasn't one of those people. 

Between bouts of being violently ill, his mother asked him if he wanted to see Daichi. 

Suga shuddered as she brushed his hair back from his forehead, soothing him. He did. But he didn't want Daichi to get scared. “N-not now.” 

That night he writhed in bed, had nightmares involving large needles drilling into his bones. He startled awake and retched over the side of the bed, but he had nothing to bring up. Someone's hands steadied him, pulled him back onto his pillow. 

“Daichi?” he murmured. 

A voice spoke to him, a woman's voice. It wasn't his mother. A nurse, probably. 

He wished it was Daichi. 

* 

Daichi returned to the hospital every day after Suga's diagnosis, but it wasn't until five days after Suga's treatment started that he was allowed to visit. 

He had a feeling he knew why. Suga had never liked worrying Daichi. He would keep his feelings and insecurities to himself. Occasionally they would come out, like a mistake, things that Suga hadn't meant to let slip, and then he would try to take them back. Suga cared a lot about other people. Like many people who cared a lot about other people, Suga didn't care enough about himself. 

Daichi had been doing some research. He knew the treatment could make patients extremely sick. He knew that Suga probably wasn't up to seeing anyone, that it wasn't personal. Daichi wasn't upset. He was just worried. He wanted to be there for his friend, but this was out of his control. 

He headed up to the hospital room. Suga had been moved to oncology, and he wondered what he would find when he got there. Suga had actually looked like he was getting better when Daichi had left the night before treatment started. He had a feeling that wouldn't be the case now. 

He was right. 

Suga looked worse. His eyes were sunken, skin paper pale, lips chapped and bleeding. He seemed engulfed by the bed and he offered Daichi a wan smile. Daichi was surprised to see that the joy reached Suga's eyes. 

“I take it treatment is rough,” Daichi said, sitting on the edge of Suga's bed. 

Suga nodded. “I think I'm getting used to it.” His voice was hoarse. “How have you been?” 

“Worried,” Daichi admitted. “Exams are going well though. I think. We'll see about that when I get the marks.” 

Suga grinned. “You always do well.” 

“At least coach let up on practices for these few weeks,” Daichi said. “Otherwise I'd probably fail.” 

“Even atheletes need a good education,” Suga said. His hands played with the edge of his blanket. 

“Suga,” Daichi said. He took a deep breath, because he could see the way Suga's eyes kept sliding away. “You know I'll always be here for you, right? I don't care if it's scary or hard. You're my best friend, and I'm glad to be here.” 

Suga looked up at him, mouth half-open in shock. “Daichi...” 

“I promise,” Daichi said. 

Suga smiled, wide and bright enough to light up his whole face. “Daichi, you're amazing!” 

Daichi felt his cheeks start to burn. “Suga-” 

“I mean it!” Suga moved forward, and before Daichi could process what was happening, Suga's arms were wrapped around him in a tight hug. A surprisingly strong hug. Daichi choked. 

“Suga, can't breathe!” 

“Sorry!” Suga relaxed his grip, but didn't let go. He rested his head on Daichi's shoulder. “You really are the best, Daichi.” 

Daichi smiled, glad to have Suga's weight pressed against him. “So are you. Don't forget that.” 

The hospital visits were more frequent after that. Suga became more open with Daichi, and it was scary, and it was hard to swallow, but Daichi appreciated it. He appreciated having Suga's trust, and he wanted to be there. 

Suga seemed to get sicker, gaunter, his hair falling out. He reassured Daichi that it was nothing to worry about, that it was just the medicine. Daichi did what he could to help. He got Suga knitted beanies of many different colors. Suga wore a different one each day. He brought books for Suga and board games. Suga gave Daichi a tour of the hospital, showed him where to get the best coffee and told him which cafeteria foods were actually worth spending money on. 

“The cookies,” he said, “are amazing. If they're out, I'll eat them even if I'm sick. They're that good, Daichi.” 

They were really good. 

“When I get out,” Suga told him, “I'm gonna take you out to lunch. And dinner. And coffee. And dessert.” 

“You don't need to do any of that,” Daichi told him. 

“I do,” Suga said. “I'll admit it's a bit selfish, too. I miss all the food outside the hospital. And I don't like to eat alone.” 

“Fine,” Daichi said. “Only if you'll enjoy it too.” 

He liked thinking about that, about Suga getting out. Suga would get out. It was only a matter of time.

*

Suga clutched his cellphone in his hands. He was curled up on his side, thin hospital blanket doing very little to keep out the cold. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that it was three in the morning, he'd been in this position since four in the afternoon, and he had Daichi's number pulled up on the screen. 

He couldn't sleep. His heart was thudding too hard in his chest. His bones hurt. 

He dialed the number. 

Daichi picked up on the second ring, sounding sleepy. “Suga? Is everything okay?” 

It wasn't, but Suga felt calmer hearing Daichi's voice. “I'm sorry. I can't sleep. I have to make a decision.” 

“A decision?” Daichi sounded more awake now. 

Suga drew his knees up to his chest. He said the words out loud that he hadn't been able to say until now, words that up until this point had been told to him. “The treatment isn't working.” 

He heard Daichi's sharp intake of breath. “What's the decision, Suga?” 

“Bone marrow transplant. From someone else.” 

“Do you have a donor?” 

“My mom or dad, but Daichi.” Suga bit his lip. “I can continue with this treatment and hope it works.” 

“Why wouldn't you do the transplant?” Daichi asked. 

“Because after that there are no choices,” Suga said, his voice shaking. “And what if the marrow gets rejected? They have to...destroy mine. And then it should work but what if it doesn't?” 

“Destroy your bone marrow?” Daichi repeated. 

“Yeah. And my immune system. All of it.” Suga closed his eyes, fear creeping up his throat, making his chest tight. 

“But it's more likely to work than the treatment?” Daichi asked. “I mean, the treatment seems to be making you worse.” 

“I'll get worse before I get better,” Suga said, his voice small. “I think I'm gonna go for it. I just...I wish it didn't feel like it was the only option left.” 

“I know.” There was a pause. “Do you want me to come over?” 

He did, more than anything. “You wouldn't be allowed. The nurses would have a fit.” 

“I'll fight them.” 

Suga laughed. “I'll be okay. Thank you for picking up.” 

“Any time.” 

After Daichi hung up, Suga didn't fall asleep. He was less scared, but he was still scared. 

He was still scared, but he was resolved. 

The next morning he told the doctor that he wanted to go ahead with the transplant. 

* 

Daichi researched everything he could about bone marrow transplants. This was more Suga's area. He didn't have a great understanding of the human body or medicine or biology, but he wanted to be able to reassure Suga, and he felt like he couldn't do that if he didn't know what he was reassuring Suga about. Suga had probably researched all of this himself, but Daichi wanted to be right there with him. 

It would be hard. Daichi felt like everything was hurtling forward and he was being dragged along. The preparations for the transplant started before Daichi could truly understand what it meant, and by the time he did, Suga had been moved into isolation. Suga had said that his immune system would be destroyed, and Daichi hadn't known what that meant. But now, seeing the lengths people had to go through to visit Suga, to make sure he wouldn't get sick, Daichi understood. 

He had to make sure he was sterile of germs, covered head to toe in hospital gear, a mask fitted over his face. Suga smirked when he saw Daichi and said, “that's a good look for you.” 

Daichi glared at him, which only made Suga laugh. 

“It really does help make you less scary when you're angry,” he said. 

Daichi's expression softened under the mask. “Well, I don't want to be scary in here anyway.” 

Suga reached out for Daichi's hand. Daichi hesitated before sitting on the bed. 

“Is this okay?” 

“I say it is,” Suga said. “The nurses can yell at me later if it's not.” 

Daichi sat, and Suga took his hand. Suga's hands were dry, cold, thin. Daichi remembered those hands tossing him a volleyball in a perfect arc above the net. He wondered if he'd ever get to do that with Suga again. 

Suga squeezed Daichi's hand and Daichi squeezed back. “Still so strong,” Suga murmured. 

“So are you,” Daichi said. 

Suga smiled. “I'm strong because of the people around me.” 

“No,” Daichi said, leaning forward, keeping his gaze on Suga's face so that Suga couldn't look away. “You're strong on your own, and you always have been.” 

Suga opened his mouth, let out a shaky breath. 

“It's true,” Daichi added, like a punctuation mark to close it off. 

Suga nodded. He looked like he might cry, but he didn't. It occurred to Daichi that this whole time, he hadn't seen Suga cry. 

“This will work,” Suga said, suddenly. His face was set with a determined look, the kind he used to get when he stepped out onto the court. “We'll break their streak in one go,” he'd said once during a game with Aoba Josai, with all the confidence in the world. Daichi never forgot that. 

Now Suga was the one holding Daichi's gaze. “This will work,” he repeated. “We have a long time ahead of us.” Then he smiled, eyes flashing with amusement. “So I hope you're prepared, Daichi.” 

Daichi was prepared for that, and nothing else. 

* 

In the end, they had a year where it could have been true. Where they could believe that they had a long time ahead of them. 

Suga's hair grew back and he felt less tired and weak. He went back into studying. He felt normal again. He and Daichi and Asahi met up regularly for dinner, and sometimes to play relaxed games of volleyball with each other. Suga tossed again and realized how much he'd missed it. 

It started with a cough. A small ache in his chest that grew with time. Tremors at night, sweating. Suga thought it was a cold, because it had to be. It couldn't be anything else. It would go away after a couple of weeks. 

He was doing well in school. He was happy. The hospital seemed distant now, a bit like a bad dream he'd had that came to mind every once in a while to unsettle him before retreating to the back of his thoughts again. He wanted it to stay there. 

He wanted to believe that he had a long time ahead of him. 

*

The second time was eerily like the first. Daichi met Suga at the bus stop. They were going out to dinner. It was cold. 

It wasn't until they got on the bus and sat together that Daichi heard the strange wheeze in Suga's breathing, felt Suga shivering next to him despite being fully bundled in a coat and scarf. 

“Are you okay?” Daichi asked. “You're shivering.” 

Suga turned to Daichi, worrying at his lip. “Daichi.” He sounded breathless. “I don't feel well.” 

The bus had already started moving. “We'll go home, then. And call the doctor.” 

“Mmm-hmm.” Suga suddenly slumped forward, his full weight on Daichi. 

And all Daichi could think was, not again. 

He didn't believe it. He didn't believe it until the next day, when he entered Suga's room and saw Suga sitting up in his hospital bed, face pale and stricken, eyes wide. He looked so young and so afraid, more than Daichi had ever seen him, and he'd known Suga for years. 

“It's back,” Suga choked out, and then he crumbled forward, shoulders shaking with sobs. 

Daichi held him, ignored the tears running down his own cheeks as Suga struggled against him, wailing, raging, not wanting to accept something he couldn't control, that neither of them could control. Daichi could only think one thing, over and over and over. 

Not again.


End file.
